<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Marshal House Rules—Or, Mando’s Holiday Staycation in Mos Pelgo by Mandaloria593</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207530">Marshal House Rules—Or, Mando’s Holiday Staycation in Mos Pelgo</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandaloria593/pseuds/Mandaloria593'>Mandaloria593</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Holidays, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: s02e05 The Jedi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:21:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,558</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207530</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandaloria593/pseuds/Mandaloria593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A stranger hunting Mandalorian armor takes out first Cobb then Mando. Luckily, he also takes the ship with the tracking beacon, leaving Mando, Grogu, and Cobb free to enjoy a holiday without getting shot at, for once. It’s the Festival of the Five Feasts [read: Tatooine Christmas], and Cobb is going to make sure Mando enjoys it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin &amp; Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>162</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Marshal House Rules—Or, Mando’s Holiday Staycation in Mos Pelgo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuenVanHelsing/gifts">GuenVanHelsing</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Christmas Fic Exchange for @GuenVanHelsing, who asked for Cobb/Din and whump. I hope you like your present! It’s oodles of holiday whump, fluff, and R-rated smut. It’s got bonus bamf!boba fett both ruining and saving the day because 1) he’s awesome and 2) Din needs a break. I’ve had it written all month sitting in my drafts and just started my holiday so it’s time to share! Happy Holidays!</p><p> <b>Detour after Chapter 13 “The Jedi” before they get to Tython</b></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Din played the message again, tapping his fingers on the console of the Razor Crest.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> If you want to see your Marshal friend live another day, come back to Tatooine before the Festival of Five Feasts. Bring the armor. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The voice on the recorded message was cold. Gruff. Unfamiliar. And the message was still as ominous as the first time Din had played it. </p><p> </p><p>Din glanced at Grogu, whose eyes were closed as he rested in his chair in the cockpit. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, kid? You don’t mind if we take the long way to that mountain temple, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>No response.</p><p> </p><p>“Grogu?” Din tried, still testing out the newly learned name on his tongue.</p><p> </p><p>Grogu blinked sleepily, then focused on Din. “Goo?” </p><p> </p><p>Din grinned behind his helmet. “Grogu,” he said again. The kid rewarded him with a happy coo.  “Cobb’s in trouble. And it seems like it’s because of me. I think we should go.”</p><p> </p><p>Grogu’s ears wiggled. </p><p> </p><p>“All right then. Course laid in for the twin sun hellhole of the universe. Again.” </p><p> </p><p>Exhaling heavily, Din punched in the coordinates. As foreboding as the message was, there was an upside. He would get to see Cobb again. Din hadn’t had a reason to linger before, not with the kid and his quest and all. At the time, he couldn’t justify his inexplicable desire to overstay his welcome and just . . . rest and enjoy the company. </p><p> </p><p>He’d wanted to. </p><p> </p><p>It was rare in his line of work that Din ran into anyone whose company he enjoyed. It was even rarer to ever see that person again as he traveled mission after mission for the covert. But something about Cobb piqued his interest. There was something about Cobb’s easy drawl, his relaxed and effortlessly calming presence, and—even more compelling but harder to admit to—the frisson of energy that tingled across Din’s skin beneath his armor every time Din got close enough to touch.  </p><p> </p><p>Din shifted in the pilot’s chair. He needed to focus on the mission—not on the man. It was one thing to be wistful about Cobb, to wonder what he might be up to now that the krayt dragon was vanquished and the villagers had an uneasy peace with the Tuscans. It was another to know that Cobb was in danger. Cobb’s life was at risk, and it was <em> because of Din.</em></p><p> </p><p>Well, Din could fix that. </p><p> </p><p>Din pulled the lever to make the jump to hyperspace.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“I ain’t telling you nuthin’, you pit-spawned son of a bantha herder!”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb let out a grunt of pain as the man’s grip on his shoulder tightened, twisting Cobb’s arm at an even more excruciating angle. He was pushed up against the wall so hard that he could hardly breathe.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb shot out his left foot towards the stranger’s shin. </p><p> </p><p>But his strike was blocked by some fancy footwork that had Cobb wincing again as he landed hard on one knee</p><p> </p><p>“Ahh!” Cobb yelled. “You poodoo shovelin’ psycho, just let—” </p><p> </p><p>“Desist,” Cobb’s attacker growled.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb finally froze when he saw the glow of a vibroblade at his chin.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll ask you again. Where did the Mandalorian go?” The man’s voice did not raise to a shout, but somehow the cool detachment was even more menacing. </p><p> </p><p>“And I’ll tell you again,” Cobb choked out. He could feel beads of sweat and maybe a little blood sliding down his cheek. He licked away what he could reach with his tongue. “I. Don’t. Know.”</p><p> </p><p>The vibroblade neared Cobb's throat. “I don’t believe you, Marshal.” The hand on Cobb’s shoulder shifted down his chest and <em> pushed</em>. “In fact, I think you two got rather chummy. I think he told you his destination. And I think,” the man paused, rotating the vibroblade threateningly close to Cobb’s skin, “he’d care if I cut you down.”</p><p> </p><p>“Doubt it,” Cobb muttered. He looked up at the man looming over him. A cowl covered the stranger’s face, but dark eyes gleamed from behind the cloth covering. “He came. He hunted. He got his prize. And he left. That’s it.”</p><p> </p><p>“He left you alive, even though you having that armor violated the creed,” the stranger pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“It was a fair trade,” Cobb maintained. “He could have just taken it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.”  </p><p> </p><p>Abruptly, Cobb was released. He dropped to the floor and cradled his sore arm. He considered lashing out again, but thought better of it. He should conserve his strength. This guy fought well — fought like Mando, actually. Of course, the stranger lacked the Mandalorian armor and helmet . . . but, apparently, that was Cobb’s fault. “If you think Mando is gonna fly all the way to this backwater planet just to get me out of a scrape, you’re a kriffing idiot.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess we’ll find out.”  </p><p> </p><p>“Face it: that armor of yours is long gone,” Cobb tried again. “He went into the belly of a krayt dragon to get it. He ain’t gonna just hand it over to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s mine.” the man hissed. “It belongs to me. It was my father’s before me. And I have survived far worse than this Mando ever did.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb raised his palms in placation. “Look stranger, I didn’t know that when I traded for it with the Jawas. It’s not like I stole it from you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know that,” the man replied. He twirled the vibroblade and pointed it at Cobb. “And that’s why you’re still alive now.”  He then flipped the vibroblade off before stashing it in his robes. “But <em> he </em> doesn’t know that. And he’ll come to save you.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb sighed. “Again, I doubt that. But until he does or doesn’t come, ya gonna leave me alone? Let the trap set?”</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose so,” the man said noncommittally. “But I’ll be close by. And in the meantime, we wait.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Mando landed the Razor Crest a good distance beyond the outskirts of Mos Pelgo. The settlement looked larger on the ship’s scopes than he recalled. He packed up his gear and popped Grogu into his satchel. “Okay, kid. Keep your eyes wide for trouble.” He brushed gloved fingers softly along the back of one of Grogu’s ears. “And, uh, keep your Force senses open, too? That’s a thing, the nice lady said?”</p><p> </p><p>Grogu just gurgled in response. But he did stay awake as they stalked on foot towards the town.</p><p> </p><p>What he found when he arrived surprised him. The settlement had expanded by more than a few compounds, and the place was . . . bustling. And it was loud. Either something was wrong with his helmet’s audio or there was some new tech, which was making the ground quake slightly and emitting a continuous deep-bass thrumming. Din approached an open market in the street, where there were excited sounds of chattering beings, young and old.  </p><p> </p><p>Din ducked under a brightly lit tent and encountered a vendor selling some colorful fruits. </p><p> </p><p>The vendor chirped at seeing him. “It’s you! Mando! Welcome back to Mos Pelgo!”</p><p> </p><p>Mando reached out to catch the orange fruit that was tossed his way. “Thanks. This place sure seems lively,” he commented.</p><p> </p><p>The vendor grinned and put her hands on her hips. “Well, now that we aren’t under attack all the time, we got the hydrotubing up and runnin’ well. Can ya hear it rumbling underfoot?”</p><p> </p><p>Mando could indeed. It was actually humming on a frequency that was interfering with his helmet’s internal audio system. It was going to give him a headache. It certainly made it harder to surveil his surroundings. He nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s all thanks to you. And the Marshal, of course.” The vendor added, “And you’ll probably be pleased to know we got an <em> arrangement </em> to share the output with the Tuscans.”</p><p> </p><p>Din noted she said Tuscans, not Raiders or Sandpeople.</p><p> </p><p>The vendor suddenly leaned across the fruit table and shook her fist at a group of children playing with some sort of small speeder-looking machine. “Oi! Dani! Let go of yer brother! And don’t break that podracer!” The vendor gave Din a half-smile. “Anyway, Five Feasts is tomorrow. So everything is in abundance. Please take what you like.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Din said, handing Grogu the orange fruit and seeing it get devoured in a single bite.  </p><p> </p><p>The vendor saw it, too, and laughed heartily. “Oh, the little one will love the festival! I hope you plan to stay all five days.”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps,” Mando offered. He lowered his voice. “And how fares the Marshal?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, I think?” The vendor shrugged. “Haven’t seen him in a few days. But then that’s not unusual. Sometimes he goes hunting or trading.”</p><p> </p><p>Mando nodded tersely and exited the tent. He paused in an abandoned corridor between two of the outermost compounds and tapped on his semi-functioning helmet as if to clear his head. He needed to find Cobb. The urgency was rising—just like the hair on the back of his neck.</p><p> </p><p>Grogu squawked.</p><p> </p><p>And that was all the warning Din had before a wire zipped around his ankles and yanked him off his feet.</p><p> </p><p>Din crashed to the sandy ground with a harsh thud. “Nggh!” </p><p> </p><p>He dimly heard Grogu whimper, too.</p><p> </p><p>Din scrambled with his right hand for one of his hidden knives to cut the wire, while using his other hand to shield Grogu. </p><p> </p><p>That left Din’s bound feet unprotected. </p><p> </p><p>Din glanced up to see a cloaked figure drop down to straddle his feet and hold them down. Whoever they were, they were strong. </p><p> </p><p>But Din was not deterred. He activated his flamethrower. Heavy fabric swarmed over his field of vision. Under some kind of thick sheet, Din coughed as the flames that weren’t absorbed by the fabric choked him. He clawed at the sheet with determination, even as he tried to kick out and away. He wasn’t about to let himself get literally <b> <em>bagged</em></b>.</p><p> </p><p>Din had to release Grogu’s satchel when a grasping hand slid up his thigh and landed too close for comfort to Din’s utility belt. The hand felt human-shaped. He wasn’t sure what his attacker was aiming for, but there was a gap between his belt and breastplate where his skin’s only armor was his thin undershirt. He extended his retractable wrist blade—a little nervous about nicking his own exposed side—and jammed it at the wandering hand.</p><p> </p><p>Din missed, but so did his attacker.</p><p> </p><p>Didn’t he?</p><p> </p><p>Din hissed through his teeth as he felt a sharp stab near his hip bone. Ignoring the sting, Din rolled — curling protectively around Grogu. The dragging weight on his legs lifted, and he managed to stumble first to all fours and then to his feet. </p><p> </p><p>He raised his fists to fight, but wavered unsteadily.  He tried to track his attacker’s movements. He only saw the shadow of a man.</p><p> </p><p>His helmet’s audio was full of static. He felt woozy.  </p><p> </p><p>He dropped the satchel and braced himself against the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Kid, I—”</p><p> </p><p>He looked down at his hand, and his vision was blurry with dark spots. </p><p> </p><p>“Gro—”</p><p> </p><p>The black spots overtook his vision. Din groped blindly — for balance, for Grogu, for Cobb, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything, except that he was about to lose consciousness. This was bad. He’d been caught unawares. And he’d woefully underestimated his opponent. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know what he was going to find when he woke up. </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>If</em> </b> he woke up. </p><p> </p><p>Din slumped against the wall, falling into unconsciousness. </p><p> </p><p>******</p><p> </p><p>When Din came to, the first thing he thought of was the kid.  </p><p> </p><p>The second was his helmet. </p><p> </p><p>He raised his hands to his head, and breathed a sigh of relief. He was still wearing it. The creed was unbroken.</p><p> </p><p>He sat up too quickly and groaned for his body’s betrayal.</p><p> </p><p>Large, gentle hands supported his back. “Easy there,” a smooth voice encouraged.</p><p> </p><p>The static fuzz of the audio interference was gone, and Din recognized the speaker. “Cobb.”  Din’s voice was hoarse and dry.  In a moment of weakness, he ducked his head and just held onto Cobb, who reassuringly rubbed his back over his armor. “The kid,” he started.</p><p> </p><p>“Kid’s fine. He’s here. I’ve got you. I’ve got you both.”</p><p> </p><p>Din’s relief almost overwhelmed him. But his thoughts quickly darkened. “What the kriff happened.” He spat the words less like a question than a statement. It wasn't really directed at Cobb anyway — but at himself.</p><p> </p><p>“He got the jump on you, too,” Cobb surmised, as he helped Din sit up all the way.  </p><p> </p><p>Din looked around. Apparently, Cobb had managed — alone? with help? — to carry Din to a bed. Probably Cobb’s own. Din felt suddenly warm. </p><p> </p><p>“Too?” Din queried. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb grimaced, the frown marring his handsome face. “Yup. Sucker set up a real nice trap here. I hoped to find you first, if you actually showed. Sorry ‘bout that.”</p><p> </p><p>Din thought about Cobb’s words and their implications. So, Cobb knew about the stranger’s threat that had spurred Din to return to Mos Pelgo. And he hadn’t been sure Din would come for him. The realization stung, even though he understood. They’d parted on friendly terms but with no promises to ensure their paths crossed again. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb separated from him and stepped back, and Din was glad his face wouldn’t reveal his disappointment. Cobb gestured to the bedside table, which had a pot of what smelled like a spiced tea and an empty mug. “I’ll just . . . give you a minute. ‘Fresher’s clean. Tea’s hot.”</p><p> </p><p>Din nodded, then saw a small form peeking through the doorway at the height of Cobb’s knee.  He held out his hands, and the little green and brown bundle toddled into the room.</p><p> </p><p>Grogu babbled excitedly as he made his way to Din.  </p><p> </p><p>Din lifted him up and into his arms. He didn’t bother to pretend not to snuggle the kid to his chest. They’d had a lot of close calls, but this was too close. </p><p> </p><p>“Goo oo?” Grogu peered up at him with big questioning eyes. A tiny green hand darted out to splay even tinier fingers on the brim of Din’s helmet.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m okay,” Din reassured, taking the small hand in his own gloved one and squeezing lightly. But instead of even thinking about taking off his helmet to hydrate and refresh, Din held Grogu out to Cobb. “Please. Take him. I’ve got to check on the Razor Crest.”</p><p> </p><p>But Cobb’s downcast eyes told him the news on that front wasn’t good.</p><p> </p><p>“Where. Is. My. Ship.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gone,” Cobb said shortly, possibly in a failed attempt to share the bad news fast, like ripping off a bacta patch. “I had people check. He knocked you out, left you and the kid in the alley, then took off in your ship.”</p><p> </p><p>Din froze. “No.” Everything he owned was on that ship. Everything he had earned, had fought for. The ship itself . . . </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Mando.”  Cobb walked closer and sat on the edge of the bed. </p><p> </p><p>Grogu reached for Cobb, who took him and placed him on his lap. Din watched Cobb bounce the kid on his knee, making the kid giggle. But Din’s shoulders sagged, disheartened, mind on his ship and the embarrassing debacle. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb looked at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I should have found you before he did.”</p><p> </p><p>The statement shook Din out of his funk “No,” he said again, but with different meaning. “The failure was my own. I was distracted.” He stared at Cobb from behind his visor.</p><p> </p><p>But Cobb wasn’t looking at him. He was smiling at Grogu and trying to play some sort of hand game with him, touching his broad palm to Grogu’s itty one. Din swallowed a sudden feeling of jealousy. He wished it was his hand that Cobb was touching. </p><p> </p><p>Din looked down at his hands. He itched to take the gloves off. He could do so, he supposed. But even if he did, to what end? It’s not like he could ask Cobb to play a child’s hand game with him or hold hands or . . . Din shook his head to clear it the best he could. He thought he should probably say something, like ‘thanks for the tea’ or ‘thanks for getting the kid’ or even ‘thanks for dragging my dumb ass all the way to your home after I let myself get jumped.’  Instead, Din just slowly rose to his feet, gave Cobb a curt nod, and locked himself in the refresher.  </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Cobb took the kid to the kitchen to find a snack. From what he remembered, the kid was always ravenous.  </p><p> </p><p>As he scrounged together some food he thought the kid might like, his mind was elsewhere. On Mando. In Cobb’s bedroom. Probably stripping off his armor to use the sonic. Or at least taking off his helmet to wipe down his face after getting drugged. </p><p> </p><p>As respectful as Cobb tried to be about Mando’s creed, he was desperately curious about the body beneath the beskar. Mando was a fighter. Scrappy. Rigorously trained. Cobb was pretty sure whatever was under there was kept in top form. He berated himself for almost being disappointed that Mando hadn’t been injured in a way that needed more hands-on attention. But it was definitely for the best — for his own self-control as much as for Mando’s health.</p><p> </p><p>Their time together fighting the krayt dragon had been too short. The beginning of something was there. Cobb was certain of it. Not being able to see Mando’s eyes introduced a smidgen of doubt, but there were other ways to communicate intent. And interest. And it might be the endless lonely heat of the desert talking, but Cobb sensed the interest was mutual.</p><p> </p><p>It might be for nothing. Cobb wasn’t sure what was allowed. Was touching skin aside from the helmet even permitted? Was Mando some kind of bounty hunting space nun? Or maybe, he mused, it was allowed but only with other Mandalorians. Cobb was definitely not a Mandalorian, even though he’d had the honor of getting some use out of the armor. </p><p> </p><p>As he watched the kid swallow an entire cooked bird, he chuckled to himself. Might as well make a move and see what happens. If Mando didn’t reciprocate, then no harm no foul. Mando would find a way off this outer rim rock and leave again regardless.</p><p> </p><p>Still . . . it was the Five Feasts time. Maybe a bit of holiday spirit would be a nice reprieve for Mando and his young charge. Five days of festivities. If he could get Mando to stick around for five days, it just might be enough time to crack his cool exterior and, if nothing else, get to know him better. The town loved Mando. And Cobb himself? He wanted Mando. </p><p> </p><p>If only Mando wanted him back.  </p><p> </p><p>****</p><p> </p><p>Mando wanted Cobb. </p><p> </p><p>But he recognized that he was being rather reserved about it — maybe even giving mixed messages. It was uncharacteristic of him. Maybe it was having Grogu around, making him soft. In another setting, he might have removed everything but the helmet and exited the refresher in nothing but a towel. He was a simple being. And simple actions usually got expedient results.</p><p> </p><p>But expediency wasn’t the satisfaction Mando was longing for.  </p><p> </p><p>He wanted something . . . slower. Softer. Sweeter. </p><p> </p><p>What he wanted was ridiculous. </p><p> </p><p>But he was feeling adrift. The Razor Crest was stolen by some pseudo Mandalorian who took out Din like a cheap trick in broad daylight. It was horribly <em> embarrassing. </em>He needed to pull himself together and regroup. He needed to get off this overly hot pit-spawn planet and recapture the beskar spear. He needed to contact the covert and warn them about the stranger who staked a claim to the armor. And of course he needed to get Grogu to the Jedi mountain temple so the kid could find a teacher.  </p><p> </p><p>Clean, hydrated, and righted again, he stalked out of the room and prepared to tell Cobb that he had to leave. Immediately.</p><p> </p><p>The sight that met his eyes made him pause.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb was sprawled on the sofa with Grogu cradled in his arms. Both were fast asleep.  </p><p> </p><p>Din’s breath caught. Maybe he didn’t need to rush off just yet. His ship could be anywhere by now, if the hyperdrive was working properly. He had no transport, hardly any credits on him, and this town was safe. This house was safe. This <em>man, </em>dozing without a care and cuddling the kid, was safe.</p><p> </p><p>Din ached to join them and curl up on the sofa. </p><p> </p><p>He found himself all the way to the foot of the sofa when he realized nothing was really stopping him but his own hang-ups.</p><p> </p><p>Carefully, so as not to disturb them, he swept the tattered remains of his cape to the side before lowering himself to sit beside Cobb. He settled in close enough that their arms and legs touched. </p><p> </p><p>He stared at Cobb’s face, memorizing the path of laugh lines over tempting tanned skin. He wanted to rest his head on Cobb’s shoulder, but he worried the helmet’s weight would be bothersome. So instead, he stretched his arm out behind Cobb’s shoulders and gently tipped Cobb’s head onto his own shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>Finally, Din let the tension ease out of his body. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to claim him.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Cobb was absolutely delighted to wake up to having Mando tucked into his side on the sofa. It was the sign he needed to put his Five Feasts Mandalorian Staycation plan into action. </p><p> </p><p>He was loathe to get up, but his joints needed stretching. Unsurprisingly, the kid had already switched cuddle partners and was resting on Mando’s other side. His wide dark eyes were looking intently at Cobb. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey kid,” Cobb greeted. “I think your dad was tuckered out from his run-in yesterday. And who knows what was in that syringe. He seems fine though. Except for his questionable taste in hanging around me, that is.”</p><p> </p><p>The kid babbled something at him that sounded happy. Or hungry. Cobb wasn’t an expert at interpreting green baby alien chortling. Food was probably at the top of the list again, given the kid’s appetite. </p><p> </p><p>“You think Mando here will stay for the holiday?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oo-oo.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yup, I agree. He can be stubborn,” Cobb said conversationally. He motioned for the child to hop down from the sofa and follow him to the kitchen. “Let him sleep. We can make dinner. How do you feel about fried meat?”</p><p> </p><p>****</p><p> </p><p>Din’s rest ended with the rumbling demands of his stomach. The delicious smell of something warm and fried was permeating the air. </p><p> </p><p>He stood up and stretched. He walked to the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Mando!” Cobb welcomed him warmly. “I made crispers.”</p><p> </p><p>Din sat down at the table where Grogu was devouring some kind of fried meat in different bitesized nuggets. That reminded him. “His name is Grogu.”</p><p> </p><p>Grogu’s ears perked up long enough for him to stop stuffing his mouth and look at Din expectantly.</p><p> </p><p>“Grogu?” Cobb repeated, wiping his hands on a towel and putting his hands on his slim hips. </p><p> </p><p>Grogu then switched his glance to Cobb at the sound of his name.</p><p> </p><p>Din was about to awkwardly ask if he could take some of the food to another room, when Cobb said, “Here’s a plate just for you.” Cobb plunked down a plate in front of him. “I have to go get stuff for the Five Feasts from my shed. I’ll be back in about thirty ticks.”</p><p> </p><p>Din nodded, feeling grateful for the easy way Cobb was accommodating him. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb placed a hand on Din’s shoulder pauldron for a beat, then left the house.</p><p> </p><p>Din looked at Grogu, who shook a half-bitten crisper at him. “You think I should say more?” Grogu waved the food in the air some more. “You think I should say more.”  Din eased his helmet off his head — permitted in his clan of two — and wiped his brow. He raised a glass of water. “Cheers, kid.”</p><p> </p><p>Grogu shoved another morsel in his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Din copied him.</p><p> </p><p>He’d finished eating, put his helmet on, and sat Grogu down in front of the holo screen when Cobb returned, arms full.</p><p> </p><p>“Miss me?” Cobb asked, flashing a bright smile. He kept talking, not waiting for Din to answer. “I’ve got everything we need for Grogu to celebrate his first Festival of the Five Feasts in style.”</p><p> </p><p>Din cocked his head. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s the biggest holiday of the year around here. It’s five days. You’re here just in time.” Cobb paused, hesitating. “I, uh, assume you’re sticking around? What with how everyone stops business around here during the festival. Even if you head back to one of the bigger settlements, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone not taking a few days’ break.” </p><p> </p><p>Cobb’s hazel eyes were hopeful.</p><p> </p><p>Din nodded, then made himself vocalize his assent. “If I’m not overstepping,” he said cautiously.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb chuckled and slapped his own knee. “Mando, my Mando, you are welcome here!” He dropped all the goodies in his arm onto the floor near Grogu, who immediately grabbed for some shiny tinsel. “In fact, circumstances be damned but I’m glad to see you back so soon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Same,” Din concurred without hesitation. The pleasant distraction of being around Cobb allowed him to pause the endless loop of worrying and planning his next move. Din reached out to the pile of decor and pulled out a shiny bauble. As he twisted it between his fingers, it shone and sparkled a bright cherry red. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s a nice one,” Cobb mused. He reached out and placed his hands over Din’s on top of the bauble. “I got this one as a gift from my niece. She’s a spitfire.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure,” Din murmured. Impulsively, he gave the bauble to Cobb and retreated a few steps. Before Cobb could ask what was wrong, Din pulled off his gloves. And then he started removing some select pieces of armor. Although the child was always being hunted, as was Din himself — always both hunter and prey — he was reasonably sure the only enemy that knew he was here was the one who’d already accosted him and commandeered his ship. Most importantly, that individual was likely already lightyears away. Din didn’t <em> need </em> to wear his armor right now. He wasn’t here to fight. He was here to . . . give the kid a break. Like Cobb said. The kid deserved it. </p><p> </p><p>Din was keenly aware that Cobb was watching him unstrap the various pieces of armor. He placed each one reverently in a neat pile, the beskar glimmering almost as brightly as the festival decorations. Pauldrons. Vambraces. Thigh, knee, and shin plates. He unbuckled the utility belt, then unstrapped the heaviest part of the cuirass, leaving just a thin vest in place over his black flight suit. He also kept the holster — his short blaster a comforting weight at his side. </p><p> </p><p>“Making yourself comfortable?” Cobb drawled, sounding pleased.</p><p> </p><p>Din nodded. “At your invitation.”  </p><p> </p><p>“Good,” Cobb approved. “Less shining metal on you. More on this bush.” Cobb motioned for Din to come help him set up what suspiciously appeared to be a full-sized tree that was tall enough to brush the ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure this is just a bush?” Din asked, hefting the green monstrosity up in the air. “Seems more like a tree.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a Five Feasts bush,” Cobb insisted. “I don’t know what to tell you. It’s <em> not </em>a tree.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not a tree,” Din repeated dutifully, but he let the doubt creep into his voice.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb grumbled. “Teasing. From a Mandalorian. I never thought I’d see the day.” Cobb pushed a handful of colorful baubles into Din’s hands. “Here. Put ‘em up however you like.”</p><p> </p><p>Din nodded. He took his time, evaluating the ‘bush’ for spots that needed ornamentation. Cobb, meanwhile, was just jamming baubles onto the branches left and right, with no rhyme or reason, some so close together they made a jingling sound. Din kept up his methodical approach until they started to overlap with one another in the silliest contest — Cobb’s hands darting in between Din’s to slip more and more decorations onto the tree. Din wasn’t sure what would count as winning at bush decorating, but he was enjoying the sparks of contact whenever their hands brushed and the way he could feel Cobb’s warm breath on his wrists.</p><p> </p><p>Din was still attaching a bright yellow orb to a branch near the top of the bush when he noticed layers of tinsel and lights meant to be wrapped around the tree were also getting wrapped around <em> him.</em></p><p> </p><p>He snorted. “This is not an effective means of restraint.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb’s responding laughter was amplified in a deep baritone. “It’s not meant to be. Just wondering how you fare with glitter stuck to your onesie.”</p><p> </p><p>Din glanced down at himself. “It’s not a — what did you call it — onesie. It’s a flight suit.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb’s eyebrows waggled.”You’re not flying anywhere right now, are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Din huffed. “Do me the courtesy of waiting at least a day to mock me for losing my ship, <b><em>which</em></b> I will get back, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, my Mando.”  Cobb said instantly, his smile sagging a bit. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant to suggest you didn't have to stop removing layers at the flight suit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, right.” Din swallowed, realizing he’d missed the innuendo completely. His intention to pursue Cobb kept getting derailed. Din shimmied out of the tinsel and light ropes with more fuss than necessary, and relished the admiring look on Cobb’s face. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, time for the coup de grâce! Grab the kid — I mean Grogu.”</p><p> </p><p>Grogu had buried himself in tinsel. There was even a piece of glitter on the tip of his nose. But he heard his name and cooed at them. Din scooped him up, and Cobb gave him a large star-shaped object that was blinking different colors. </p><p> </p><p>“Put it on top, little guy,” Cobb suggested. </p><p> </p><p>“Ga?” Grogu asked, pointing to the top of the bush.  </p><p> </p><p>Din held him high enough to rest his feet on Din’s shoulders. Grogu placed the star on the top of the bush. Sort of. It was askew. Honestly, it was the red and blue wires all over again.</p><p> </p><p>“I can fix it,” Din offered sheepishly.</p><p> </p><p>“No, no,” Cobb urged. “It’s perfect.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb called for the computer to turn off the lights, and the three of them stepped back to appreciate their handiwork. The ornaments and lights cast a warm glow over the room. It was very cozy.</p><p> </p><p>Din nudged Cobb in the shoulder. “It’s a nice tree.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bush.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure. House rules.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb nudged him back, a little harder. “Marshal house rules. Don’t you forget it.”</p><p> </p><p>Through his visor, Din looked at Cobb and thought about how the tree wasn’t the only thing that looked nice. </p><p> </p><p>****</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, Din couldn’t resist the temptation to head to Mos Eisley and put out some feelers for his ship and the mysterious attacker who claimed the battered green Mandalorian armor as his own. But just as Cobb had said, no one seemed willing to do much of anything. The general consensus seemed to be: it can wait four days. </p><p> </p><p>Not wanting to wear out his welcome — or his pursestrings — with the celebrating locals or resort to stealing just yet, he went back to Cobb’s compound at the edge of town. He felt much better than the previous day. Cobb’s sofa made a comfortable bed, and even Grogu seemed blissfully at ease in his makeshift hammock, which Din had set up to be as similar to the one on the Razor Crest as possible. The kid was still sleeping when Din returned.</p><p> </p><p>“Any luck?” Cobb asked.</p><p> </p><p>Din shook his head. “It was as you said.”  Din sank down onto a chair. “I’m yours for four days.”</p><p> </p><p>“Merry Five Feasts to me,” Cobb said, amused. His eyes were mischievous. </p><p> </p><p>Din felt more than heard Cobb come stand behind the chair. He felt Cobb’s hands come and rest on his shoulders. Din almost jumped in his seat, unused to the touch. But Cobb’s hands were strong and steady. Grounding. </p><p> </p><p>Din let his head dip forward to give Cobb better access to his shoulders and neck. He was rewarded with Cobb digging his knuckles into his back muscles. “Okay?” Cobb asked softly.</p><p> </p><p>“More than,” Din affirmed. </p><p> </p><p>And then Cobb got to work. Din was sure no paid masseuse had ever had such perfect hands. But then he was probably biased, because it wasn’t just any pair of hands so thoroughly kneading his neck and shoulders but <em> Cobb’s</em>. Closing his eyes, he could picture Cobb’s radiant smile, his cocky posture, and his experienced hands. </p><p> </p><p>Din thought he might melt into the floor if not for the chair holding him up. His limbs felt boneless, and his breathing was calm and even. Every part of him felt relaxed. Well, not every part of him. Part of him wanted to greedily pull Cobb’s magical hands down, down, down to his lap. But he managed to control himself, at least a while, until he had to do something more than just sit and be touched. He wanted to do the touching, too.  </p><p> </p><p>So Din jumped up from the chair. He moved so clumsily that he knocked the chair over with a clatter. He reached out to steady himself on Cobb, who caught him in a firm grip. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb’s voice was concerned. “Everything all right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Din answered, choosing to address his uncharacteristic lack of grace with action rather than words as he flipped Cobb around, righted the chair, and pushed Cobb onto it. Cobb was compliant but his brow was furrowed. “Your turn,” Din clarified.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Cobb breathed, getting with the program as he splayed out his limbs and tipped his head back for Din’s perusal. </p><p> </p><p>Din eagerly ran his fingers through Cobb’s salt and pepper mane, halfheartedly massaging his scalp, mostly just enjoying the feel of the soft locks on his rough palms. But then he shifted Cobb’s head forward and attempted to return the favor of the neck and shoulder massage, even though he didn’t have the skills that Cobb evidently had. But what he lacked in technique he made up for with enthusiasm and sheer strength.  </p><p> </p><p>Cobb certainly seemed appreciative anyway. Unlike Din, he said as much. Repeatedly. “That’s real good.” “Ah, right there.” “Kriffin’ nice.”</p><p> </p><p>All of it sounded even better because Cobb’s voice was rich and syrupy like Alderaan honey. Din let the sound roll over him. </p><p> </p><p>Din eventually slowed his hands until he was just resting them on Cobb’s shoulders and breathing in time with him. In and out. </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” Cobb said, his voice a whisper.</p><p> </p><p>Din nodded before he remembered that Cobb wasn’t looking up at him. “You’re welcome.” He walked around the chair to stand by the bush and tapped one of the shimming orbs, making it spin. “So what’s next on the holiday agenda?”</p><p> </p><p>“No agenda,” Cobb said lightly. “Just whatever seems good. If there’s any goal, I guess it’s to relax.”</p><p> </p><p>Din smirked. “Mission accomplished then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmmm,” Cobb agreed. “Why don’t you wake sleeping beauty. I’m sure he’s hungry. I’ll put something together.”</p><p> </p><p>Din walked over to the corner of the main living room where Grogu was tucked in. “Hey, buddy.” </p><p> </p><p>Grogu ignored him, as he often did. For being fifty years old with a complicated past, he sure slept a lot. </p><p> </p><p>“If you wake up, Cobb will give you something to eat,” Din entreated. </p><p> </p><p>Grogu opened one eye.</p><p> </p><p>Din made a humming sound. “That’s what I thought.”</p><p> </p><p>Still, he didn’t rush Grogu into rising. He hovered as a steady presence and waited until Grogu reached for him. He then lifted him up and took him to the kitchen, where Cobb had assembled some sandwiches. </p><p> </p><p>“Grub’s up,” Cobb announced.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb and Din both watched as Grogu shoved an enormous sandwich nearly as big as his head into his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>At the same moment bits of food were hanging from Grogu’s mouth, Din said, “He’s got potential to become a powerful Jedi sorcerer.”</p><p> </p><p>Grogu burped.</p><p> </p><p>“Really,” Cobb said dryly.  </p><p> </p><p>“He’s been hiding his powers. I'm trying to coax them out.”  Din reached into his pocket and felt for the silver knob that seemed to be permanently removed from the ship’s console. Maybe they could practice the levitation thing later.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that a good idea?” Cobb asked. </p><p> </p><p>Din reared back slightly in his seat.</p><p> </p><p>“I just meant,” Cobb hurriedly explained at Din’s defensive posture, “aren’t the Imps after him because of those powers? Maybe it’s better to let sleeping mynocks lie.”</p><p> </p><p>Din relaxed his shoulders but huffed. “You sound like the Jedi.”</p><p> </p><p>That elicited one of the deep chuckles Din was beginning to obsess over. </p><p> </p><p>“His powers are his own. His legacy. I’m supposed to restore him to his people. I’m not going to return him like . . . ”  Din fished for the right word. “I’m not going to return him broken.”</p><p> </p><p>“Look at him.”  Cobb waved. “Look how happy he is. If anything’s gone wrong, it’s nothing you did.”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps,” Din conceded.</p><p> </p><p>Din and Cobb took turns eating and finding other tasks to do around the homestead. But Din still ended up with some time to himself, and he didn’t know what to do with it. After Din had restlessly paced for about forty ticks, Cobb took pity on him and finally tossed an electronic tablet at him.</p><p> </p><p>Din caught the tablet easily. “What’s this?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a book,” Cobb replied.</p><p> </p><p>Din sank onto the sofa and flipped on the tablet. “Why not just put it on a holo screen?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because you read it, not watch it.” Cobb loomed above Din. “Mandalorians read, don’t they?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course.” Din scoffed. “I just don’t do it for <em> fun </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“But do you do <em> anything </em> for fun?” Cobb quipped. </p><p> </p><p>Din had no retort to that.</p><p> </p><p>“Just try it.”</p><p> </p><p><em> In other words, get out of my hair for a bit, </em> Din interpreted. He settled further into the sofa cushions and thumbed on the tablet again. If it was terrible, he could just start his daily workout routine over from the beginning.</p><p> </p><p>The story wasn’t terrible. It was clearly about the holiday Cobb was celebrating — that Din was celebrating <em> with </em> Cobb. It had something to do with flying horses — with an emphasis on a particular horse with a bright red nose leading the way — and a trillion presents being delivered by one magical being all in one night. Din decided he would tell the story to Grogu later. </p><p> </p><p>The twin suns had long set before Cobb sought him out for another holiday ritual. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s time to light the candles.”</p><p> </p><p>Din shuffled over to the bush with Grogu at his heels. Now, the bush had been dotted with small white candles. Din turned to Cobb. “You’re going to light this thing on fire?”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Cobb defended, both hands up. “Well, I’m not saying it never happens, but the point is to light the candles and <em> not </em> burn down the whole house.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.” Din didn’t see, but Marshal House Rules. </p><p> </p><p>Din went over to his pile of things and grabbed a fuse welder from his pack. He brought it up to one of the candles and flicked the switch, bringing the flame to life. It danced from the welder onto the wick. The candle was kindled into a bright orange flame. Din was fairly sure the last candle he’d seen was on Sorgan. The small village had some power supplies but often relied on oil and wax. The simplicity of life in the village there had appealed to him.</p><p> </p><p>Now, other things were appealing. More than the candle itself, Din liked the way the light reflected on Cobb’s stubbled jaw and lit a golden ring in his irises. “Let’s light the rest of them.”</p><p> </p><p>The kindled flames combined with the sparkly tinsel and baubles made the room into a glowing light show. The kid was in awe.  </p><p> </p><p>Cobb patted Grogu on the head. “Happy Five Feasts, Grogu.”</p><p> </p><p>Grogu clapped his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, this fire tree is worthy of applause,” Din said.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not a — whatever,” Cobb relented. </p><p> </p><p>Din reached out and jokingly patted Cobb on the head, too. “Happy Five Feasts, Cobb.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb shoved his hand away, but the movement felt playful, and Din observed that Cobb let his touch linger longer than necessary. “Yeah, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>The three of them sat in comfortable silence until the candles began to resemble more melted wax than candles. Grogu fell asleep between them. </p><p> </p><p>******</p><p> </p><p>It was the third day of the festival, and Cobb informed Mando that everyone in town would be attending a big party that night. Cobb wondered if he could get Mando to dance. Any such hopes were quickly dashed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not really one for large gatherings,” Mando warned. “Too many targets.”</p><p> </p><p>“I get that,” Cobb acknowledged, chopping a purple rutabaga. He stopped chopping to point the blunt edge of the knife at Mando. “But you’re going. Just for a tick. House Rules.”  Then he added, “If you don’t like it, we’ll leave.”</p><p> </p><p>Mando leaned on his elbows over the counter, and Cobb caught himself admiring the view of Mando’s curved backside. Then he realized Mando was saying something. “— don’t have to leave early just because I do. I’m already interrupting your holiday by imposing on you.”</p><p> </p><p>“S’not an imposition,” Cobb protested. “I invited you. And I’m glad for your company.” Chopping forgotten, Cobb peered at Mando intensely, trying to scrutinize what was going on behind the helmet. </p><p> </p><p>“As am I,” Mando echoed softly. “Glad for your company.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb hummed a pleased sound and got back to prepping the rutabaga. Mando’s forthcoming reply made him pretty sure the hunter wasn’t just camping on Cobb’s couch for the kid’s benefit.</p><p> </p><p>It also occurred to him that Mando hadn’t yet offered to help, and they had a lot of cooking to do. He tapped the knife against the board and made it spin in the air before catching it. He then presented it to Mando, who was paying rapt attention to his showboating. “A little help here?”</p><p> </p><p>Mando sidled up to him and took hold of a blue potato and began to chop. </p><p> </p><p>*******</p><p> </p><p>Cobb was not surprised to see Mando had donned his full Mandalorian gear for the party. He looked elegant and imposing — well, except for the huge green ears peeking over the brim of the satchel slung across Mando’s shoulder. It was hard for a man to look truly intimidating while carrying a baby around.</p><p> </p><p>The best Cobb could do was find a clean shirt. But it had a nice check pattern, and it hugged his body well. It couldn’t compete with a suit of beskar, but then, wearing a Mando’s armor is what had gotten him into trouble with the stranger — not that Cobb could pretend he didn’t like how things had worked out with getting his <em> own </em> Mando back for the whole Five Feasts festival. </p><p> </p><p>“Ready, boys?” Cobb asked, drawing out the vowels and giving what he hoped was an inviting smile. </p><p> </p><p>They walked towards the center of town, where the lights were brightest. Mos Pelgo looked nothing like when Mando had come by the first time, even though it had been just a short time ago. Knowing every building wasn’t at immediate risk of destruction, the people had come together and built more in a modular style. The population was still small but brimming with life, and the party was in full swing. A band was playing music on a grandstand. Colorful tents were aglow. Young and old partygoers were playing games, drinking, and partaking in a huge potluck feast. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb asked Mando to drop off their own contribution to the food table — he’d made sure Mando had eaten some before they left — and went to say hello to his people.</p><p> </p><p>“Marshal!” he was greeted excitedly. “Marshal’s here!” Cobb was fawned over and embraced warmly by many. </p><p> </p><p>He snuck a glance to the edge of the crowd, where he spotted Mando leaning against a tent post with his arms crossed. Mando was definitely watching him, even if his posture seemed nonchalant. </p><p> </p><p>When the music picked up and people started dancing, hopping and whooping about, Cobb waved Mando over to him. He knew he might not come, but a man could dream, right?</p><p> </p><p>Cobb spun around and do-se-do’d with some kids. He remembered how much the green munchkin had enjoyed being the center of attention with the kids before. “You wanna play with that green baby Mando brought?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah!” the kids shouted, happy to have some new form of entertainment. </p><p> </p><p>To Cobb’s surprise, when he made to go towards the edge of the crowd and find Mando, a tap on his shoulder revealed Mando had come over to him after all. Cobb had to shout over the loud music. He pointed at Grogu and then at the children. “At least let the little one down!” Cobb suggested.</p><p> </p><p>Without hesitation, Mando lifted Grogu from the satchel, and the kid bravely toddled off with the other children of mixed ages and heritages. </p><p> </p><p>And then it was just Mando and Cobb standing in the middle of the dance floor beneath the bright lights. Everyone else around them was moving to the jaunty rhythm, skipping and twirling with locked elbows.</p><p> </p><p>Mando looked like he was about to bolt.</p><p> </p><p>So, bracing himself for rejection, Cobb looped his arm with Mando’s. And then he tried to guide Mando in a small circle, before letting go and grabbing his other elbow and reversing course.</p><p> </p><p>Mando didn’t push him away, but he wasn’t moving fluidly with the steps either. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s just dancing!” Cobb shouted at him with a grin, hopefully above the roar of the crowd. <em> Loosen up, </em>he begged mentally, unable to lead Mando by feel through the steps due to the barrier of the armor. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb knew Mando was <em> capable </em> of dancing. Anyone who could fight as sinuously as Mando could certainly ease the bend of his knees and hips at will. Mando must just lack the <em> will.</em></p><p> </p><p>But when he still wasn’t pushed away or left standing alone like an idiot, Cobb decided to try a few beats more. He took both Mando’s gloved hands in his own and started to pull back and forth, right arm then left arm, left foot then right foot, until they were sort of actually dancing together. </p><p> </p><p>But just as Mando was getting into the swing and pull of it, the other dancers started circling up. </p><p> </p><p>Mando tensed, looking around furtively.  </p><p> </p><p>Cobb put both hands on Mando’s helmet and tried to convey the positive energy that was reverberating through the crowd. “It’s a dance!” Cobb again shouted at Mando. “It’s called the Haroh!” He grabbed Mando’s hand and then the hand of the nearest person. He nudged Mando to do the same, and then they were off — swept up in the throng of laughing, joy-filled dancing. </p><p> </p><p>Luckily, the circle dance was short, and Cobb was thrilled Mando had stuck it out until the music changed. As the beat slowed and mellowed, the bouncing crowd of dancers melted into pairs and trios, hands now locked only with partners. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb saw Mando retreating, having finally given into the urge to bolt from the crowd again. He’d made it to the very edge of the party where the bright lights gave way to quiet shadows. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb followed him. </p><p> </p><p>When he caught up, Cobb’s chest was heaving. His breath had been spent on the lively circle dance. He placed his hand over Mando’s breastplate. Cobb wasn’t sure, but he thought Mando might be breathing hard, too, under the beskar. </p><p> </p><p>The now-sedate beat of the music was dim but somehow pounded in Cobb’s chest. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb held out his hand, hoping Mando would take it. “Let’s just dance right here, hm?” </p><p> </p><p>Cobb’s heart almost dropped as Mando looked sharply away from him. Rejection? But then Cobb followed his gaze and realized Mando was just making note of Grogu’s position — still playing happily with the other kids. </p><p> </p><p>Mando looked back to Cobb and placed his hand in Cobb’s own.</p><p> </p><p>******</p><p> </p><p>Din stepped into Cobb’s personal space, one of his hands interlinking with Cobb’s and the other moving to the middle of Cobb’s back. </p><p> </p><p>He could barely hear the lilting music, but it didn't matter. He knew this was the kind of song you just . . . swayed to.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb let him lead, and Din regretted that he couldn’t feel the warmth of Cobb’s body close to his through the armor. But the way they moved together, back and forth, made Din feel as if there were no barriers between them.  </p><p> </p><p>Din let his hand move down Cobb’s back to settle on his trim waist. This elicited a chuckle. Cobb started, “Do you reckon — “</p><p> </p><p>“Shh,” Din admonished. He was gratified when the air Cobb had sucked in to say whatever he was going to say was released in a soft exhale instead. They were of height, and if he wasn’t wearing his cowl and armor, he knew he’d have felt the puff of Cobb’s warm breath on his neck. Just the thought made him shiver as if it had actually happened.</p><p> </p><p>He dared to snake his hand even lower, down past Cobb’s jutting hip to the sloped curve of his backside. He didn’t squeeze — just kept his hand there with slight but meaningful pressure.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb’s hand at his neck seemed to be trying to worm its way through Din’s neck-cowl to find skin. </p><p> </p><p>Din forgot to keep stepping back and forth, and just clutched Cobb to him. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb sucked in a breath again as if to speak.</p><p> </p><p>Din wasn’t ready for the moment to change. So he placed two gloved fingers over Cobb’s lips. </p><p> </p><p>Din felt Cobb’s body shudder under his hands, and Cobb’s exhale misted the leather of his gloves.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>KABOOM!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>A missile streaming through the air had Din snapping into action.  </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>BOOM! POP!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Din shoved Cobb to the ground hard, and crouched over him with the protection of the armor.</p><p> </p><p>Where was the kid?!</p><p> </p><p>Cobb was scrabbling out of his hold, trying to get up. “Stay down!” Din ordered. </p><p> </p><p>“MANDO!” Cobb yelped. Armorless, he was no match for Din.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, colors bloomed in the sky. Din saw bright sparks of green and red. </p><p> </p><p>The sound of shrieking missiles and explosions continued to fill the air, and the sky became painted with streaks of glaring light.</p><p> </p><p>Scanning his surroundings, Din realized the crowd wasn’t screaming in fear but in . . . joy.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb had worked his way to his feet, still wrapped in Din’s arms. “Fireworks, Mando. <em> Fireworks.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Oh.</p><p> </p><p>Din’s face flamed behind his helmet. He wanted to get the kid and leave.</p><p> </p><p>Was Cobb laughing at him? But when Din searched for his face, he didn’t see amusement. Cobb was frowning — in sympathy or understanding, Din wasn’t sure. </p><p> </p><p>As if choreographed, Din and Cobb moved together. They walked towards Grogu, and Din was ready to scoop him up into his arms. But Grogu was sitting on a mining barrel with the most awed look on his face as he stared up at the fireworks, surrounded by equally awed kids and adults. His ears were flared out. And his little hands were reaching towards the sky.</p><p> </p><p>“Grogu,” Din said. “Let’s go.”</p><p> </p><p>Grogu turned distractedly at his name. “Oo woo?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I said let’s go.” Din was hopping on the balls of his feet, the surge of unnecessary adrenaline not yet dissipated.</p><p> </p><p>Grogu ignored him and turned his attention back to the sky. Din sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I can watch him with my little ones,” a kind voice offered.</p><p> </p><p>Din saw it was the fruit vendor from the other day. </p><p> </p><p>Din placed a hand on Grogu’s back. “I’m going to go with Cobb. You can stay with . . . “</p><p> </p><p>“Sendra,” she supplied. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, kid?” Din checked.</p><p> </p><p>“Goo.” Grogu had the nerve to actually shoo him away.</p><p> </p><p>Din sighed again.</p><p> </p><p>“He’ll be safe with Sendra and her brood,” Cobb promised, his face close to Din’s helmet, and Din remembered the man was still glued to his side. </p><p> </p><p>Decision made, Din let Cobb lead them away from the throng. They walked in silence down the sandy streets towards Cobb’s compound. The silence seemed loud to Din as they continued to stay in close proximity with arms, shoulders, and legs practically bumping into each other.</p><p> </p><p>Din’s body started channeling his adrenaline-fueled energy away from battle readiness and into something else. He forgot about the interruption of the fireworks and thought about how he’d held Cobb in his arms as they rocked back and forth, lost in their own orbit. His body felt taut, like a string pulled so tight it was ready to snap.</p><p> </p><p>How he <em> wanted. </em></p><p> </p><p>They nearly tumbled through the unlocked door to Cobb’s house.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as they entered, Cobb sprang into action.</p><p> </p><p>Din was pushed back against the door he'd just shut, and Cobb’s body molded to his, head to toe.</p><p> </p><p>“Mando.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb’s voice was so low and so needy. </p><p> </p><p>Din wanted him badly.</p><p> </p><p>Din’s gaze was captured by Cobb’s pink tongue sliding out to lick his lips. “Can I?” Cobb gestured to Mando’s belt.</p><p> </p><p>Din nodded jerkily.</p><p> </p><p>That was all the encouragement Cobb needed before his hands pawed at Din’s utility belt. Cobb got it unbuckled and yanked so hard that Din’s hips were tugged forward off the doorframe. But the belt got tangled with Din’s holster when Cobb tried to shuck it off.</p><p> </p><p>Din reached down to help, but Cobb swatted his hands away. “I’ve got this. I’ve got you.”</p><p> </p><p>Breath coming in short gasps, Din let his helmet fall back with a thud. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb worked fast, and soon enough Din felt the cool air on exposed skin. “Cobb,” he said weakly.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb didn’t answer at first, too focused on unwrapping his prize. </p><p> </p><p>“Nngh,” Din groaned as finally, <em> finally </em> Cobb was touching him, gripping him with dry, rough fingers and squeezing with a pressure that was too much and not enough at the same time. “Cobb,” he whined again.</p><p> </p><p>“Very nice,” Cobb praised as he stroked with one hand and cupped and rolled with the other. </p><p> </p><p>Din reached out, intending to reciprocate, but Cobb made a tsking sound. “Just stay,” he urged. “Just let me. Let me.”</p><p> </p><p>Din’s balance faltered as his knees wobbled, so he braced his flattened palms against the door, one on each side.</p><p> </p><p>And then Cobb was sinking to his knees in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>Din stared as Cobb looked up at him, eyes dark with desire, one hand still working Din between his legs. Cobb’s tongue was out again, flicking suggestively. But he wasn’t moving in, wasn’t going where Din ached for him most.</p><p> </p><p>Did he need . . . ? “Please,” Din begged, pushing his hips forward without reservation.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb flashed a conspiratorial grin before pressing his face to Din’s groin and making a low, rumbling sound that caused goosebumps to rise on Din’s flesh.</p><p> </p><p>Wet heat engulfed him. </p><p> </p><p>He curled his fingers into fists, resisting the urge to put his hands on Cobb’s head and make him move. But he didn’t need to, because Cobb started moving on his own. Up and down. Licking. Sucking. And his hands weren’t idle either, groping and dragging along Din’s skin like iron brands, marking him.</p><p> </p><p>Din wanted it. Wanted to be marked by Cobb.</p><p> </p><p>“Cobb, please,” he sobbed.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb obliged him, speeding up and tightening his grip. One of Cobb’s hands worked its way further back, seeking and rubbing at a tender place that had Din keening. </p><p> </p><p>“Cobb, I’m — ”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb didn’t stop, just kept carrying Din forward on waves of pleasure that crested into a need to let go, <em> let go</em>, <em> let go</em>. When the suctioning heat peaked in intensity and Cobb’s wandering finger <em> curled, </em>Din at last let go with a guttural moan.</p><p> </p><p>Din panted through his release. He made himself squint open his eyes so as not to miss Cobb’s face when he looked up at him. </p><p> </p><p>Only then did Din let his hands move off the door, darting out to wipe the corner of Cobb’s lip. </p><p> </p><p>He heard Cobb wince slightly as Din’s weight sagged against him. Remembering Cobb was on his knees, Din sought to rearrange them. He eased Cobb back at an angle that forced Cobb to scoot his legs out and land on his back. Din followed, pressing him to the floor, but taking care not to crush him under the full weight of his still-armored body.</p><p> </p><p>Hovering completely over Cobb, he held his gloved fingers over Cobb’s lips. He waited.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb’s eyes narrowed to slits and took the hint, opening his mouth to bite at Din’s fingers and tear off the glove. Din let his now bare fingers linger on Cobb’s face, as Cobb licked and nipped, then slipped his hand between their bodies to find Cobb’s pants.</p><p> </p><p>Din fumbled to work them down past Cobb’s slim hips, and didn’t protest when Cobb’s hands joined his in his endeavor. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s it, there, yes,” Cobb murmured, arching up into Din’s touch.</p><p> </p><p>Din closed his hand around hardness hot enough to burn, and reveled in the singe as he stroked and pulled. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb writhed beneath him and kept whispering things that Din surmised weren’t decent even though they weren’t spoken in any language Din knew. Din stopped worrying about whether his armor was hindering or helping Cobb’s enjoyment and just focused on bringing Cobb as much pleasure as Cobb had brought him. </p><p> </p><p>“Talk to me,” Cobb prompted suddenly.</p><p> </p><p>“And say what?” Din asked huskily, his other hand roaming freely up Cobb’s back, across his neck, and running through his hair. “Do I say that I’ve wanted this? That I was thinking about it since I landed here? Or even that I was thinking about it since I first saw you swing your leg over your speeder, wondering what else you’d sit astride so nicely?”</p><p> </p><p>Din accompanied his words with a firm squeeze, and Cobb’s hips jerked forward in a broken rhythm. Din felt warm fluid coat his hand and he gently eased Cobb through his release.</p><p> </p><p>“Kriff,” Cobb breathed.</p><p> </p><p>Din murmured in agreement then rolled off of Cobb and flopped onto his back. They lay side by side on the floor, breaths still coming in fast from their exertions.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb gave Din a once over. “I’ve still got to get you out of that armor.”</p><p> </p><p>Din chuckled. “Later.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb pushed a finger at his beskar-covered chest. “I’ll hold you to that, Mando. Don’t think I won’t.”</p><p> </p><p>Under his helmet, Din smiled. </p><p> </p><p>Din lay on the floor a while longer, enjoying the sated lethargy in his limbs, even after Cobb got up to get water.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll go get Groku from Sendra,” Cobb offered.</p><p> </p><p><em>Right</em>, Din thought, as he slowly sat up. <em>Back to reality</em> <em>and responsibility.</em> But the thought of the kid wasn’t a negative, not by any means. Grogu was a bright spark in his mind — a responsibility, yes, but one he readily accepted and wouldn’t give up for anything less than a Jedi whom Grogu was willing to follow. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll go with you,” Din said. </p><p> </p><p>When they retrieved Grogu from Sendra together, Din felt a little foolish at the knowing <em> look </em> she gave them as she handed over the sleeping bundle of a happily exhausted womp rat.</p><p> </p><p>But Cobb seemed to pay it no mind, thanking Sendra and chattering the whole way back to his house.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb must have sensed Din’s uncertainty, because after Din settled Grogu in his hammock, Cobb pulled Din to a stop in the middle of the room with a hand on his arm. “Relax.” </p><p> </p><p>“I am relaxed,” Din said plaintively.  </p><p> </p><p>Cobb smirked. “If this is you relaxed, then I’m just going to have to try harder.”</p><p> </p><p>“Please don’t take it as a challenge,” Din said, letting his amusement color his voice. “This is just . . . how I am.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb placed a hand on Din’s helmet, bringing their faces close together. “No regrets?”</p><p> </p><p>“No regrets,” Din assured, hoping that even through the helmet his tone conveyed his sincerity.  </p><p> </p><p>“Good.” </p><p> </p><p>Din stood standing near the sofa, wondering if he was supposed to sleep there again or if he could go with Cobb. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb walked towards the bedroom, hips swaying slightly as he moved. Cobb tossed Din a glance over his shoulder. “You coming?”</p><p> </p><p>Din nearly jogged to catch up to him, following him into the bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>******</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, Din woke up alone in Cobb’s bed.</p><p> </p><p>He’d slept later than he was used to, thanks to Cobb’s presence and a bone-deep sense of peace that spread through every muscle of his body. </p><p> </p><p>Din allowed himself a satisfying stretch, then got up and used the ‘fresher. Back in the bedroom, he put on his shorts and ran through a few quick exercises to fully wake up his body and mind. As he was finishing a set of pushups, he heard a tiny coo from the doorway.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you little womp rat,” he greeted Grogu cheerfully. </p><p> </p><p>Grogu walked over to him and clambered onto his back. Grogu giggled as Din resumed doing pushups, knowing that Grogu enjoyed ‘helping’ him through his daily routine.  </p><p> </p><p>Din didn’t realize anything weird was happening until he heard Cobb run into the room, shouting a curse in Huttese.</p><p> </p><p>Din looked down . . . and the ground was <em> farther away than it should be.</em> He was <em> floating in thin air! </em> “Grogu?!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><strong> THUNK</strong>.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Din groaned as he dropped like a sack of potatoes and hit the ground. Without any armor — or even a shirt — it <em> hurt.</em> </p><p> </p><p>He rolled to the side and reached for Grogu. “You okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Grogu chirped at him. Grogu had landed just fine, his own fall cushioned by Din’s body.</p><p> </p><p>“What the kirff?” Cobb asked, his eyes wide, as he came over to help Din to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“I told you,” Din said, “The kid has powers.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, yeah, you did.” Cobb stroked the hair on his chin thoughtfully. “But hearing it and seeing it are different things.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me about it,” Din said gruffly, bringing a hand to rub his right hip bone, which had hit the ground first. He rubbed the sensitive spot, which sat just above the waistband of his shorts. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb was suddenly nearly on top of him, his hand pushing Din’s out of the way to tenderly rub the same spot. “Hurts here?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Din said, even though the pain had already faded. He just enjoyed Cobb’s hands on him. And Cobb seemed to enjoy it, too.</p><p> </p><p>“Wa Da!” interrupted Grogu. </p><p> </p><p>Din sighed, and Cobb rested his chin on Din’s shoulder, kissing a scar that ran from the top of Din’s shoulder to his shoulder blade. “Ah, the joys of fatherhood.”</p><p> </p><p>Din shuddered from the light touch and only regretfully disengaged from Cobb’s embrace. He didn’t correct him. The thought of giving Grogu up to a Jedi was <em> gut-wrenching. </em></p><p> </p><p>“I think that means he’s hungry,” Cobb mused.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s always hungry,” Din told him, not hiding his exasperation.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, then as host, I don’t want to disappoint.” Cobb then picked up Grogu and started carrying him off to the kitchen. “Let’s see what I can rustle up, hm, little guy?”</p><p> </p><p>Din redressed in his flight suit and got ready to join them to start the day.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>Cobb was watching Mando help Grogu put together a puzzle in front of the festival bush. Grogu was still munching on sprinkled, syrupy festival cookies that a kind neighbor had delivered. His sticky fingers were smudging both the puzzle and Mando’s helmet. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb warned, “If that bucket on your head gets any stickier, you’re not gonna be able to see out of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Mando turned to him, small handprints dotting the entire front t-shape. “It needs a good polish,” he agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“Come here, then.”</p><p> </p><p>Mando hesitated a moment, then left Grogu to his playing and followed Cobb into the kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb gestured for him to have a seat and grabbed a towel, along with some polishing solvent. “At your service,” Cobb drawled. Just because he could, he promptly straddled Mando and perched on his lap so that they were chest to chest.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you . . .” Mando started.</p><p> </p><p>But Cobb just proceeded to dampen the towel with the solvent and dab it to Mando’s helmet. “Can’t a guy help another guy polish his shiny, metal head?”</p><p> </p><p>That earned a laugh as well as the pleasure of Mando’s hands coming to rest on his hips. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb couldn’t resist wiggling even as he actually did clean Mando’s helmet. It really was dirty. Cobb moved the cloth over it thoroughly until it started to gleam under the kitchen’s fluorescent lights. He also kept wiggling, just a little here and a little there. </p><p> </p><p>“Is this supposed to be relaxing?” Mando asked. His voice sounded a bit strained.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb grinned knowingly. He was enjoying the thrill of Mando’s trust in him to handle the helmet without removing it. And he was very aware of Mando’s growing interest beneath his spread thighs as he went through the hypnotic motions of polishing and shifting his weight. “What do you think this is, hm? A lap dance?” Cobb took the opportunity to stretch his back, arching it purposefully as it pushed him closer to Mando’s belly and chest.</p><p> </p><p>Mando’s hands tightened on Cobb’s hips. “Seems like it.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb ground down intentionally now, making small figure-eights with his body. “Nah. It’s just your imagination. Marshal’s House of Polishing doesn’t. Give. Lap dances.” He was gratified to feel Mando hardening beneath him, and brazenly leaned back, baring his neck in invitation. </p><p> </p><p>No kisses would be forthcoming, but Cobb wasn’t disappointed in the way one of Mando’s palms, slick with sweat, cupped his neck and slowly dipped down under his shirt. </p><p> </p><p>“Off,” Mando demanded.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb eagerly complied, helping Mando lift the shirt up over his head. Cobb had barely tossed it to the floor before Mando was pinching one of his nipples, pebbling the skin. Cobb moaned and continued to writhe in Mando’s lap. “More. Touch me.”</p><p> </p><p>He missed Mando’s agile fingers on his chest but groaned when they slid down his stomach to push aside the fabric of his pants. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb reached down to fiddle with the fastenings at the same time that Mando did, and their hands tangled together. That earned a whimper from Mando, who Cobb had quickly realized had sensitive hands — sensitive <em> everything,</em> really, from wearing that armor all the time. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb let out a low chuckle that Mando mirrored as they struggled with too many fingers between them to get them both out of their pants. But once freed, it was pure bliss to have Mando’s hand wrap around them both. Cobb steadied himself on Mando’s shoulders as Mando stroked them together. It was feverish. Desperate. But the pace, just shy of too fast, had Cobb thrusting greedily into Mando’s grip. </p><p> </p><p>Opening his eyes, which he hadn’t realized he’d closed, had him staring at a pulse point on Mando’s collar bone that was just begging to be kissed. So Cobb leaned down and licked at the skin, kissing and biting at the junction between Mando’s neck and shoulder. He felt Mando’s heart beat furiously under his lips. Cobb laved attention at the spot again and again. </p><p> </p><p>“Cobb.” Mando’s voice was hitched with desire, but he didn’t stop his ministrations.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb only pulled away briefly — delighting in another choked cry of his name — to grab the forgotten solvent and pour some onto his palm. Slick now, he insinuated his hand under Mando’s, and together they raced to finish.</p><p> </p><p>Mando came first with a groan that reverberated through Cobb’s chest. Cobb tried to slow down, to stretch out his pleasure, but Mando wasn’t having it, furiously dragging his release out of him. </p><p> </p><p>“Cobb, come on, Cobb.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb stopped trying to hold out.</p><p> </p><p>He felt the pressure building and gave into it completely, spending himself in Mando’s capable hands and collapsing against him.</p><p> </p><p>Even as Cobb fell like a dead weight, Mando’s strength didn’t falter. Cobb’s uneven breathing echoed loud in his own head. He slowly stroked Mando’s shoulder and teased at the spot where he’d left a mark. Cobb’s back was rubbed gently up and down. </p><p> </p><p>Solicitously, Mando cleaned them off using Cobb’s shirt, which he’d retrieved from the floor. </p><p> </p><p>“I have towels,” Cobb grumbled.</p><p> </p><p>Mando’s helmet turned to the cleaning cloth Cobb had discarded from earlier. “That one’s dirty.”</p><p> </p><p>“And now <em> I’m </em> dirty.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” Mando said smugly.</p><p> </p><p>They disentangled from each other and righted their clothing — except for Cobb’s shirt, which he balled up for later laundering. “I think,” Cobb posed, “you just want me shirtless for the rest of the day.”</p><p> </p><p>No denial was offered.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb preened as he leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across his bare chest. He knew he looked good, even if he couldn’t wipe the dopey grin off his face. “So what else do you want to do today?”</p><p> </p><p>“That, five more times?” Mando said so fast that Cobb almost didn’t make it out.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb laughed belly-deep. “First, I’m impressed by your ambition. Second, I’m not sure you know the meaning of <em> taking your time</em>. Maybe I can persuade you yet. Either way, I’m sure we can work something out, partner.” He winked. “But it <em> is </em> the fourth day of the festival. And I have something for you and your little green wizard.”</p><p> </p><p>Mando’s head tilted at him. “Nothing we can’t repay, I hope. I don’t have anything for you.” His voice had gotten tighter, probably thinking of his lost ship. He laid his hands on his lap, palms open and empty.</p><p> </p><p>“No, no,” Cobb sought to put him at ease. “Nothing fancy, I promise. Just . . . traditional. For the Five Feasts.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I try not to stand in the way of tradition,” Mando allowed, and his tone had definitely lightened.</p><p> </p><p>“Then let’s get to it.”</p><p> </p><p>****</p><p> </p><p>Cobb went to his shed where he’d stored the presents. As he collected the brightly wrapped packages, he felt bad thinking of all that Mando and Grogu had lost when the stranger made off with the Razor Crest. Hopefully, these trinkets could be the start of a new collection of treasures for the little clan.</p><p> </p><p>When Cobb returned, Mando had turned off the main lights and instead turned on the lights decorating the festival bush. He was standing upright, but he looked much more at ease than Cobb had seen him before. Wearing just the flight suit and helmet, his stance was unguarded and the tension that he always seemed to carry in his body was conspicuously absent. This was Mando as he was supposed to be right now — and <em> where </em> he was supposed to be right now. With Cobb. On holiday. </p><p> </p><p>Would Mando leave immediately tomorrow after the Five Feasts Festival ended? Cobb had to admit it was almost a certainty. Mando had his quest to return the foundling to the Jedi. Although Cobb had his doubts about the value of that, he refrained from saying as much. Mando also had to hunt down the stranger and his ship.</p><p> </p><p>There was nothing for it. This honeymoon feeling was temporary. Mando would be back out of his life again in a whir of ship engines and a clatter of beskar steel. It was fine. If Cobb could just shake the feeling of rightness of Mando making himself at home in Cobb’s domain, then it would hurt a little less when it had to end. </p><p> </p><p>And Cobb had to be a man about it when the time came. No crying. No hollering. Just a swat on the — too perfect — rear and send him off. </p><p> </p><p>It was fine. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb cleared his throat and pasted on a winsome smile. “I’m back!”  He walked over to Grogu, who was spinning some of the ornaments on the bush — with his hand, not his powers. “Hey, Grogu.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oo oo?”</p><p> </p><p>“I got you something.” Cobb presented Grogu with a small box tied up with a red bow.</p><p> </p><p>“Ga?” Grogu solemnly took the gift, not seeming to realize it was a moment of levity. But he used his tiny fingers to tear open the packaging and pry open the box lid. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s it,” Cobb said. “That’s for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Grogu’s hands went into the box and came out holding a transparent orb that glinted in the light. Grogu peered at it closely. Inside the orb was a miniature speeder bike. </p><p> </p><p>“Give it a shake,” Cobb encouraged.</p><p> </p><p>Grogu looked from Cobb to Mando.</p><p> </p><p>“You heard him,” Mando said. “Shake it.”</p><p> </p><p>Grogu shook the orb in his hands. “Oooo!” Grogu trilled happily at seeing tiny specks of sand fill the orb and dance around. The light refracted so that the grains of sand seemed to glitter over the speeder.</p><p> </p><p>“Something to remember this place by.”</p><p> </p><p>Contented with the child’s reaction to the sand globe, Cobb looked over at Mando, who had crouched to sit next to Grogu at his level. Grogu shook the orb again and held it aloft to show to Mando. “Thank Cobb for the nice gift, Grogu.” Grogu just pushed the orb at Mando’s hands. “No, not me. <em> Cobb.</em>” Mando pointed to Cobb.</p><p> </p><p>Grogu looked straight at Cobb with his big eyes overly serious. “Ga.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome. And you’re next, Mando,” Cobb said, allowing himself to feel the fun anticipation of giving someone a gift you hoped they liked. </p><p> </p><p>Without further prompting, Mando rose fluidly from the floor and moved in close to Cobb’s side. “I should say again you don’t need to get me anything, but I’ll admit I’m intrigued.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good,” Cobb rejoined confidently. He reached behind the sofa and produced another box, this one a bit bigger. </p><p> </p><p>Mando took the box and ripped off the bow and packaging with the same gusto that Grogu had displayed. He popped open the lid and pushed aside the wrappings. Mando emitted a soft, “Oh.“ With meticulous care, Mando lifted up a folded scarlet cape, letting it unfold to its full glory as it draped in cascading ripples. </p><p> </p><p>“Everyone saw how destroyed your old cape was when you emerged from the belly of that beast. When you showed up here the other day, a couple of townspeople made it special. I chipped in for the materials. It’s customary to give handmade gifts for the Five Feasts.” Cobb gave his explanation and watched hopefully.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s . . . wow. This was made for me?” Mando sounded surprised.</p><p> </p><p>“Yup. Do you like it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I do.” Mando swung the cape out with a flourish and wrapped it around himself.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a tad longer than the one you had before,” Cobb said, eyeing the length critically. “But you know how the sand gets everywhere around here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you. I will wear it proudly,” Mando said. “And I must thank the people who made this. I’ve been hiding out here in your house this whole week, and I have hardly spoken to anyone.” He sounded guilty.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I’m pretty sure it’s <em> me </em> that’s been greedily hoarding your company here.” Cobb walked over and embraced Mando and his new cape in a comforting hug. He added, “Can you blame me, though?”</p><p> </p><p>“Surely you’ll tire of me imposing on you any moment now,” Mando said wryly.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, ssssurely.” Cobb drew out the syllable silkily. “But in the meantime, I hope you’ll humor me with your presence a while longer.” </p><p> </p><p>Cobb couldn’t see Mando’s face, but he didn’t think he was imagining that his smile was being returned. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb glanced at his chronometer. “I ran into Doroda when fetching these gifts from the back shed, and he said there’s going to be a play put on for the kids this afternoon. You think Grogu would be interested?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Mando said. “He enjoys being among other younglings.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then it’s settled.”  </p><p> </p><p>********</p><p> </p><p>Din and Cobb left Grogu in a large group of kids and other townsfolk preparing to watch some sort of theater production set up in the same place where the music and dancing had taken place the day before.</p><p> </p><p>“You behave,” Din had told Grogu. “I’ll be here to get you when it ends.”  </p><p> </p><p>After thanking a few people Cobb pointed out had helped make his new cape, Din slipped to the back of the audience.  </p><p> </p><p>Cobb’s hand on his shoulder pauldron was unexpected but not alarming. </p><p> </p><p>“Sooooo” Cobb drawled. “You wanna watch this play about the birth of the water goddess, or you wanna go back to my place and see if we can’t get you to, what was it, <em> five</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Din inhaled sharply at Cobb’s boldness and couldn’t stop his body’s immediate reaction to start sending blood pooling south.</p><p> </p><p>“Whaddya say, my Mando?”</p><p> </p><p>Din turned to look at Cobb more fully. Cobb looked enticing as ever. His pink lips were supple and twitching up at the corners with roughish provocation. His firm, wiry body was practically glued to Din’s side.</p><p> </p><p>Din grabbed Cobb’s elbow and steered him to the house forcefully as if Cobb was one of his bounties. </p><p> </p><p>Once safely ensconced in Cobb’s home, like the night before, Din expected Cobb to pounce. But he didn’t. Instead of grabbing Din, or his armor, Cobb walked backwards towards the bedroom, beckoning Din to follow. </p><p> </p><p>Din trailed after him, curious.</p><p> </p><p>He was gratified to see Cobb was stripping off his clothes. Weathered, tanned skin was slowly revealed, as item by item of clothing was discarded. Cobb’s body was honed by his hard experiences and tough environment, and Din was eager for his wickedly talented hands and tongue. And other parts, too.</p><p> </p><p>“You, now,” Cobb insisted. </p><p> </p><p>Din quickly moved to copy him. He shrugged out of his armor with less finesse than he usually cared to use, but he wanted to be as naked as Cobb. Fast.</p><p> </p><p>Once they were both undressed, Din stretched towards Cobb, going straight for the jutting half-hardness that bobbed irresistibly. </p><p> </p><p>But Cobb tsk’d, darting back. “Nu uh uh. <em> You </em> might be capable of four rushed promenades, but I was thinking . . . a change in tempo. Maybe a little slower. A more <em> thorough </em>debauching, hm? What do you think?”</p><p> </p><p>“All right,” Din was quick to agree. But half-dressed and hurried made up the bulk of his experience. “What do you have in mind?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Cobb murmured, as Din let him arrange him as he liked, which turned out to be Din flat on his back on the bed, “I’d like to have you like this.” Cobb trailed his hands from Din’s neck to his chest, each scape of his fingernails sparking a different kind of itch. “Spread out for me on my bed. Opened up. Letting me in. How about that?”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb’s words were like a spell woven in the air, and Din was under it. He gulped. “That sounds good.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good,” Cobb repeated, smiling at Din from where he’d already dipped between Din’s legs. </p><p> </p><p>And Cobb did open him up, slowly. So painstakingly slowly that Din was going crazy with need.  </p><p> </p><p>Cobb took pity on him and brought him off first with his mouth, before resuming his preparation.</p><p> </p><p>The first deep thrust of Cobb inside him was overwhelming in the best way. The fullness. The closeness. Din couldn’t breathe until Cobb finally started to move, and then fullness gave way to scorching pleasure. </p><p> </p><p>Din choked off his cries, going so far as to mute his helmet’s audio.</p><p> </p><p>But Cobb’s disapproval of that was punctuated by hard and sharp snaps of his hips, even as one of his hands skirted with barely-there caresses over Din’s arms and chest. “Please, lemme hear you. Want to hear you.”</p><p> </p><p>Din flipped the audio back on, but solicited a change of position so he could turn over and bury his helmet facedown in Cobb’s pillow. The new angle made things even more feverishly pleasurable for Din, and he arched back into Cobb’s sure movements. “I need to—” he began, hands scrabbling down to touch himself, wanting to feel everything at once as he neared the brink again.  </p><p> </p><p>“So kriffing hot,” Cobb effused, slowing down as if to savor Din’s frenzied surrender. </p><p> </p><p>Din wanted to scream when Cobb actually stopped, <em> stopped. </em>“What are you . . . ?” He twisted his neck to peer behind him, and Cobb was just . . . admiring the view, petting Din’s backside and murmuring things Din couldn’t make out. “Come on!”</p><p> </p><p>Din felt a sudden <em> smack! </em>— right on his backside. Din couldn’t contain his yelp. </p><p> </p><p>“I think I said something about taking our time,” Cobb said. It sounded mild, but Din noted he was definitely winded. </p><p> </p><p>“I think I only like that idea in spirit,” Din groaned, starting to feel empty and not liking it. Din had never stopped his own determined movements, and he felt himself twitch excitedly in his own hand. “Not in practice.”</p><p> </p><p>“All right, okay,” Cobb soothed, and then rolled over onto his back and looked at Din invitingly.</p><p> </p><p>As Din crawled over to straddle him, he said, “I thought I was the one who wanted to see <em> you </em> doing the riding.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb laughed, and placed folded hands behind his head. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Promises, promises,” Din grunted, lining himself up and easing down to take Cobb in, making the tiniest adjustments as he sank all the way down.</p><p> </p><p>Din set a brutal pace that pushed his body to the limits, and it was achingly perfect. Everything about Cobb was too good. Too accommodating. Too brilliant. Too . . . hard to leave behind. Din shoved himself forwards, and linked their hands together on either side of Cobb’s ruggedly handsome face, which was twisted in agonized pleasure as Din raced them onwards. </p><p> </p><p>Din let go of one of Cobb’s hands and went back to helping himself along. Again, the pressure built and he could feel himself reach the pinnacle. He chased it with unrelenting fervor. He could feel and see that Cobb was right there along with him this time.</p><p> </p><p>“So good, Mando. You can let go now. Let go. <em> Mando </em> . . . ”</p><p> </p><p>Would <em> Din </em> sound as lovely coming from Cobb’s mouth? Oh, how Din wanted to hear Cobb say his name. Maybe next time. Maybe. Maybe. </p><p> </p><p>Din stopped thinking and just let himself feel, guided by his body’s signals. He was rewarded with a tightening that shook him from helm to toe. Cobb’s fingers were squeezing his. Cobb’s whole body and mind was surrounding him — Din’s climax overtook him and he came with a harsh shout. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb kept thrusting, easy now, and then suddenly Cobb was seizing up. “Can I?” he gasped.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Din encouraged, and welcomed Cobb coming inside him with a low, drawn out curse.  </p><p> </p><p>They separated and lay there contentedly for more heartbeats than Din could count. </p><p> </p><p>Din tried to bask in the afterglow without overthinking. He wasn’t exactly succeeding until Cobb started tracing glyphs on his chest. </p><p> </p><p>“Does that mean something?” Din asked, catching Cobb’s hand in his own.</p><p> </p><p>“Mm-hm,” Cobb answered, sounding sated but tired. </p><p> </p><p>Din smirked behind his visor. “Well?”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb yawned. “Doesn’t matter.”</p><p> </p><p>Din wondered what Cobb was writing on his skin that he wasn’t willing to say aloud. But he didn’t press. After all, Cobb wasn’t the only one withholding things. And Din’s thoughts inevitably circled back to his imminent departure after the Five Feasts ended. The darkness in his path that lay ahead troubled him. If only he could cart Cobb around with him as easily as the kid.</p><p> </p><p>Din eventually got up and used the ‘fresher. He felt good. More revived than exhausted. Unlike Cobb, who had yet to get out of bed and was just watching Mando get dressed from behind hooded eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“I gotta get the kid,” Din reminded him. Cobb started to sit up, but Din gently guided him back down and made sure a pillow was under his head. “Stay here.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll come back?” Cobb sounded younger than his years, and Din clutched his gloves to his chest before slipping them on.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll come back.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>By the time Din had returned with Grogu, Cobb was up and preparing dinner. </p><p> </p><p>It was a quiet, simple affair. </p><p> </p><p>Grogu became sleepy shortly after eating. Din leaned against the wall near Grogu’s hammock and rocked it back and forth slightly as he ate his portion. In between bites, he told Grogu a shortened version of the story with the flying horses and the midnight magical delivery guy. Grogu was asleep before the story’s ending.</p><p> </p><p>After tucking in Grogu, Din found Cobb on the sofa watching a holovid. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb patted the seat next to him.</p><p> </p><p>Din settled in next to him and propped his feet up on the small table in front of him. “What are we watching?”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb snorted, clearly more interested in weaving his fingers in between Din’s than watching the holovid. “Just some trash show about people from the Core marrying people from the outer rim, then moving there and having ninety days to make it official or break up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm. Do more of them work it out or not?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not,” Cobb answered. “Definitely not.” Cobb continued playing with Din’s fingers. “But, they’re all kriffing idiots.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, who would want to marry someone from the outer rim anyway?” Din teased. “Definitely idiots.”</p><p> </p><p>Cobb grunted. But then he rolled over and onto Din’s lap and stared so fixedly at Din’s visor that Din thought he might actually be making eye contact. “Wanna make out?”</p><p> </p><p>“I <em> wish</em>,” Din responded immediately. </p><p> </p><p>And that response made Cobb light up like the festival bush on the other side of the room. He ran a hand through his hair and posed on the edge of Din’s lap. “Really? You <em> wish</em>? Kriff, you’re going in for the kill, aren’t you? This is how you kill me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Long way to go about it,” Din said lightly. </p><p> </p><p>“Scenic route, am I right? Yup, I’m gonna need a demonstration,” Cobb insisted. “Up, up, let’s go, I need to walk to my fate on my own two feet.” Cobb pulled Din up from the sofa and marched him to the bedroom. “Now, I think you were wondering something about what else than my speeder I can sit astride real nice, hm?”</p><p> </p><p>*******</p><p> </p><p>Din told himself he wasn’t <em> too </em> disappointed when they fell asleep before proving anything about Cobb’s riding skills. But they made up for it in the morning, both of them waking with the first sun’s dawn, both too aware that it was the fifth day of the Five Feasts and that Din would soon be making arrangements to leave the planet.</p><p> </p><p>Din had insisted on donning his armor to have Cobb take him around to more formally thank the makers of his new cape. Afterwards they were sitting outside Cobb’s house, watching tumbleweeds drift down the street.</p><p> </p><p>That’s when they heard the shouting. </p><p> </p><p>“You!” someone yelled accusingly.</p><p> </p><p>Din and Cobb shot with lightning speed to their feet. Din moved instinctively in front of Cobb to shield him with the armor. </p><p> </p><p>“You! Mandalorian!”</p><p> </p><p>Din tapped his visor, switching his viewfinder to heat-seeking. But then the owner of the voice stepped forward right in front of them.</p><p> </p><p>It was a Mandalorian — or a man wearing Mandalorian armor. It was green, rusted, and well-used. It was the very same armor that Cobb had worn and that Din had reclaimed for the covert. The stranger was holding some kind of staff . . . no, a<em> spear. </em>Din’s beskar spear!</p><p> </p><p>“You!” the man called again angrily.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you found me,” Din stated tersely. “Right where you left me, when you <em>stole</em> <em>my ship</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your <em> ship</em>,” the man spat. “The one that was being <em> tracked </em> by the <em> Empire </em> no less.”</p><p> </p><p>Din raised his hands in mock surrender. In truth, he was charging up his whistling birds. “What are you talking about?”</p><p> </p><p>“Moff Gideon. He was hunting you and the asset. He had a tracker installed on the Razor Crest. Lucky for you, he found me instead.”</p><p> </p><p>Lucky indeed. Din hadn’t known about the tracker. What if he had made it to Tython and the Imps had ambushed him there and taken Grogu? “And?” Din prompted. </p><p> </p><p>The man growled. “And I took care of it.” He threw the beskar spear at the ground in front of Din. “You’re <em> welcome</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Din stared in confusion, hand still on his blaster.</p><p> </p><p>Cobb responded first. “You . . . took care of it? What does that mean?”</p><p> </p><p>Din wasn’t going to bother to find out. Reflexes honed, he snapped into action, dropping to the ground and sliding towards the beskar spear to grab it. He gripped the handle and kicked it behind him in a fast arc until he had it aimed up defensively, just in case the stranger who’d bested him before was planning for round two.</p><p> </p><p>Din thought he figured correctly when the man pulled out something from his holster. But it wasn’t a blaster.</p><p> </p><p>“Easy there,” Cobb cautioned, as if talking down a panicky bantha.</p><p> </p><p>The armored man pulled forth a dark hilt, which slowly extended into a black glowing saber. “Like I said, Mando. I took care of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Din was still crouched low on the ground, and carefully edged backwards. Gideon’s darksaber. The one Bo-Katan was seeking. A weapon that only the beskar spear could be wielded against. </p><p> </p><p>“What do you want?” Din demanded. “You can’t have the child.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want the child,” the man said. “I got what I wanted. My armor back.”</p><p> </p><p>“So why come back?” Din asked, still reeling from the man’s declarations.</p><p> </p><p>A new voice sounded high and loud. “Because, as it turns out, much to my surprise, he is an honorable man.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bo-Katan,” Din recognized, posture still defensive but hoping for a non-violent resolution. He prayed the kid stayed hidden if there was to be any confrontation. He glanced at Cobb and tried to convey the thought: <em> protect the child. </em></p><p> </p><p>“At ease, Mando,” Bo-Katan said, striding forward to stand between Din and the stranger. “You two haven’t been properly introduced. This,” she pointed to the green armored man, “is Boba Fett.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pleasure,” Din said shortly, knowing his tone conveyed just how little a pleasure it was. </p><p> </p><p>“Boba Fett is a son of a foundling Mandalorian. The armor is his birthright. You recovered it for him, and now he is returning something of yours.”</p><p> </p><p>“The spear,” Mando said, hefting it in his grip. </p><p> </p><p>“Not just the spear,” Bo-Katan said. “Look over there.”</p><p> </p><p>Din adjusted his helmet’s visuals to scan the far horizon. It picked up a signal he wasn’t sure he’d ever spot again. “The Razor Crest!” </p><p> </p><p>“Cleaned of filth,” the man who was Boba Fett proclaimed, powering down the darksaber. “No trackers. No imperials. Much better condition than when I borrowed it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Borrowed?” Din muttered under his breath. But he relaxed his stance minutely.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think you understand the magnitude of what Fett has accomplished,” Bo-Katan said. “He helped us battle the Moff who was after your ward. He reclaimed the darksaber for our people.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is good news,” Din agreed. </p><p> </p><p>“You have your ship back, and you are no longer being viciously hunted,” Bo-Katan stated. “Come with us,” she entreated. “We return to Mandalore to rebuild.”</p><p> </p><p>For all that Din was having a hard time processing all the information being thrown his way, he was not tempted by the offer. “I have my quest,” Din informed her, bowing slightly to them both. “And I do not mean to seem ungrateful,” he added, specifically for Boba Fett. “But I just want my ship back.”</p><p> </p><p>“And so you have it,” Bo-Katan said. She traded glances with Boba Fett, then nodded to Din. “This is the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“This is the way,” Din echoed. </p><p> </p><p>The standoff ended as the other two Mandalorians departed.</p><p> </p><p>“Ain’t that something.” Cobb whistled low and long. </p><p> </p><p>Din unclenched his fists and sighed with relief at seeing Cobb holding his satchel with two green ears peeking out from the top. Cobb had heard his mental plea to protect Grogu. </p><p> </p><p>Cobb wondered aloud, “So you sit here on your hands for a few days, and that Boba Fett guy plays the hero and saves the day?”</p><p> </p><p>Din shrugged. “I guess.” Din didn’t really care. He wasn’t trying to be anyone’s hero, except maybe Grogu’s. He was grateful, but not only had the other Mandalorian knocked him on his ass, which Din still wasn’t sure how he was going to live down, but Din only cared about the results in this instance. And, if Bo-Katan and Fett were to be believed, then the right result had been achieved: Grogu was safe. </p><p> </p><p>“I suppose you’re planning to ready your ship and head to that Jedi temple?” Cobb ventured.</p><p> </p><p>Din nodded. “That’s the mission.” He strode towards Cobb and Grogu, and placed one hand on each of them — the two people in the universe that mattered most to him right now. He took a deep breath and looked at Cobb. There was no way to ask this causally. So he just blurted it out: “You coming?”</p><p> </p><p>Din got to watch Cobb’s expression go from put out to elated. “The holiday’s over. I guess it’s time to get to work.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you’re in?” Din asked again, needing clarification — needing Cobb to say that he wanted to stay with Din as much as Din wanted to stay with Cobb.</p><p> </p><p>Din watched Cobb lavish attention on Grogu instead, petting one of the kid’s ears and making him coo. “Obviously.”</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously,” Din parroted, rolling his eyes. Cobb’s teasing was merciless. </p><p> </p><p>But when he looked back again, Cobb wasn’t looking at the child anymore. He was looking at Din, and his eyes were sparkling. </p><p> </p><p>Din raised his gloved hand to cup Cobb’s cheek as if to memorize the lines and shapes of his face. “You can call me Din.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>